Naughty, Naughty Boy
by xxBoogeymenxxArexxComingxx
Summary: Alfred was very bad, trying for independence like that. Arthur would have to teach him a lesson. But, maybe little America had something up his sleeve. M for a reason. Unwilling. EnglandxColonial!USA


Oh, and by the way, I do NOT own Axis Powers Hetalia.  
And I apologize, this story is crappy, but on the funny notes, I wrote this on my graphing calculator in school. Then I dared to make it two pages on 8 point font. So I have this.

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Naughty, Naughty Boy

"My boy." breathed Arthur, taking in the scent of his 'son'.

Alfred quivered ever so slightly under the cool, green gaze. But he wouldn't admit to defeat after his previous rebel-rousing.

"Yes Arthur?" His tone was soft, controlled.

"You've been a very naughty boy." replied the elder nation. He was smirking! He was mocking America! "We will need to discipline you for it, won't we, Alfred?" Arthur put unneeded emphasis on the haughty, young man's name and the word "discipline."

A silent cold settled over the two. Father and son stood quiet until England stood and sat in his chair behind his large, oak desk.

"Come. Across my knees."

Alfred had thought about rebelling, about fighting back, but fatigue and pain made him comply.

Slowly, he made the movements to rest himself over the blonde's lap.

Arthur took a moment, short as it was, to give an appreciative look at the junior's backside. It was round and firm, a hidden jewel under the rough of loose pants. The look was cut short as he began tugging at that infernal belt that always hung tauntingly around the colony's waist. A minute or two later- Alfred always was a bit slow- the belt loosened: Swiftly, America's pants were brought shamefully to his thighs.

He knew what was coming: England could nearly taste the mix of fear and anticipation that surrounded them.

Another quick move and the boxers joined the pants, round bottom bared humiliatingly to the world.

More hungry gazes fell on the younger man's rear. Alfred was about to comment on the old man to stop being a pervert, but it was quickly put aside as the Englishman's hand smacked him hard.

"Ouch!" Alfred exclaimed, squirming to try to get away: all to fail, of course, as the other man was much older and stronger at the moment.

"Do you regret being naughty now?" asked Arthur, amusement not hidden in his voice.

"Never." replied the defiant little colony.

Another smack connected with his bottom. Harsh and quick punishment. Wrong answer.

Though he shifted, he made not a single sound, save for a few unwanted mewls and hisses.

The smacks became stronger with each go until the rabble's rear had turned an furious red.

"Now, have you learned your lesson?" Arthur asked smugly. Obviously he hadn't expected the boy to be so resilient. Such a troublesome child.

Much to the displeasure of England, Alfred shifted to look up at his aggressor and moved his hand to gently soothe the tender skin. He gave a smirk and whispered, "Never."

An enraged UK brought his hand back again, this time striking the young man across the face; Alfred's glasses clattered to the floor from the impact.

"Then you will be punished more!" roared England forcefully.

Alfred withered slightly at the harsh hands that were bringing him into a sitting position, which was painful due to his tender backside. However, that wasn't his newest torture, no. He though for a moment and listened to a few particular sounds: like the shuffle of the clothes with the rough noise of zipper accompanied with the sound of a drawer being opened and the clank of chains. Some thought gave the little colony a horrid idea. He was going to be bound and whipped!

_Ngh…_

Wait…what? America twisted to look behind himself, wondering just what the Hell was going on…and why the other nation was stroking himself.

"Ugh…Ahem.. Arthur?"

"_What?_" his tone was curt and short.

"What are you…ugh, doing?"

Why America did not run then, he did not know. There was a bit of curiosity in his bright, blue eyes.

Curiosity didn't kill the cat; it killed the rebel.

"I'm going to punish you, you twit!" said Arthur as his 'vital regions' awakened in his hand.

_This_ was when Alfred tried to run. But Arthur's free arm wrapped around his waist to stop any planned escapes.

"W-wait a minute h-here!" stuttered Alfred, pulling at his captor. "There's no need to be so rash! I-I'll be good and I'll l-listen! I p-promise!" he pleaded desperately. Anything to avoid _that_.

"No you won't you bloody wanker. You aren't going anywhere!"

The older one took no heed to the other's cries and promises, and promptly turned the rebel 'round to face himself. Blue eyes widened as a collar was wrapped around his neck and it's metal links of leash played icily on his chest. Even with his normal white shirt on, the cold was not dulled.

"Now, you're going to be good. You're going to suck on my fingers." It was not a proposal, or a request. It was a command.

Alfred nodded slightly. He knew it was better to go with this right now, lest he be completely destroyed. He would wait a while.

Arthur's free digits pressed into the blonde's mouth and he shuddered. A soft moan left the Englishman, and the tables could be felt turning.

Alfred licked softly at the invading fingers, and listened to the noises of appreciation. He did so again, earning the same result. He added a slight bit of suction; Arthur was slowly loosing that oh so loved control of his. There was the plan, America decided, the plan to outwit the overbearing man.

When in doubt, fight dirty.

"T-that's enough." Arthur said shakily, now that his fingers had been coated thoroughly.

It was all Alfred could do to keep his smirk contained and his laughter drowned. It was almost slipping out, but the junior covered it as a frightened squeak.

The now slicked fingers worked themselves to the other's entrance and teased at the ring of muscle. Arthur pressed forward with one finger.

It made Alfred give a cut off yelp. No, he would not give this bastard the satisfaction. He almost lost the resolve as a second finger wriggled next to the first. The burn was searing, like a brand that would forever mark England's name on him. But a HERO did not cry out. He had to relax. Relax. A few deep breaths and he was there. The pain was slipping away for a minute, until a third intrusion was added. He tensed, but repeated the relaxation.

"You're making this easy as possible." began UK, "Good boy. Maybe I will lighten up on you." The words were sugar coated but their venom couldn't be hidden by all of the maple syrup in Canada.

Going off of instinct, Alfred pressed back against the fingers. He was rewarded by a purr.

"That's my good little rebel." he said as the fingers retreated and Alfred let out a sigh of relief.

"Now we're going to move onto your real punishment." HEROES don't cry.

The British 'wanker' fumbled for a moment to get into his desk drawers. Out he pulled a small vile filled with liquid. A peace offering from France.

"What's that?" asked Alfred, quick to suspicion.

"Lube."

_Oh, yeah, so I'm the naughty one. You keep lube in your office. Pervert._

"You're going to put it on me. Then I'm going to fuck you." More commands.

However, the colony took the bottle and put some of its contents on his hand. He fought against nausea as his hand gripped Britain's engrossed member. He seemed to have forgotten it as soon his fingers were being taken. Immediately the green-eyed monster groaned. A few sickening moments later, the poor thing was weeping and covered with lubricant.

"Stand."

_Yes, yes, crack the whip, old man._

Alfred stood at the command but he was soon sitting again. However, he was sitting on something rather painful. The surprise made him yelp, but that was it was cut off.

_HEROes don't cry out. No, never. Just take it for now. He'll get his._

It seemed that only Alfred felt pain because he could hear the Englishman hissing appreciatively. The pain was nearly unbearable, but still the American blonde didn't make a single noise. He held strong, and it was seriously pissing off Arthur.

With a slick movement, Arthur pulled his partner's head back, baring his neck to the world.

"Be a good boy and make a little noise, you slut." hissed the domineering one. He licked the other blonde's ear shell, and the resolve faltered.

"…Ah…" murmured America, playing along.

"That's my good boy. Now you're listening to me." There was far too much of a smile in his voice. He was beginning to sound like Russia. "Now I'll reward you, my good little whore~"

If it were possible, Alfred was growing more fearful. But his fears were slightly dulled as his own placid member was taken hold of.

"Shiiit!" he cursed, more so himself than anyone else. After a few strokes he cursed more as he began awakening. He did not want this to happen, but there was no way to stop it now. It was a snowball on a hill and it just got bigger and bigger.

The thrusts and strokes became synced and it was much more difficult for America to keep himself together.

"Scream." instructed Arthur harshly as he added more pressure than needed.

The younger colony let forth a loud sound, but it had verged on words; "Fuuuuuckyooouu!"

Now obviously, the Englishman did not take a liking to this, not at all. He wrenched the leash back harshly and murmured, "No, we're fucking you, slut."

And indeed they were. Mercilessly, and fast. The strokes that provided minimal pleasure were erratic as of late, and that meant one thing;

England was nearing his release.

Playing along once more, Alfred met the thrusts, forcing a few moans from his mouth for good measure. It was seeming to pay off; UK's grip on the leash was growing more and more slack.

_Bet he thinks I finally got the idea to be a nice trained underling. He thinks I'm a good fuck, which I am, but he thinks I'm his and _only his. Pfft, yeah freaking right. Keep dreaming old man. I'm getting out.

It was not a few moments more and the sickening feeling of being filled completely covered Alfred. His body could barely keep his lunch down. He was so dirty, so damaged. So… angry.

Arthur was obviously still in his post-colitis haze and Alfred took it to his advantage. He wrenched the leash from the 'father' country and pulled the man from his bottom as he stood and shuffled to the other side of the room. Alfred's face turned a violent red as he felt the sticky, white liquid slipping slowly down his thighs. The anger grew deeper with the feeling as he brought his pants to his up to his waist.

Now that England was coming back down from his high, panic was displayed on his face.

"Alfred. You will come back this instance and clean me up." he commanded, trying to keep control of the situation. He knew that the only way to do so was to completely bull-shit it. "Your ass is mine, and so is your soul. Now stop this nonsense."

"Like Hell! My ass is _mine_." replied the rebelling colony. His hands rushed to the collar round his neck and undid the bindings. It slid slowly from his neck to clatter against the chain-links into a heap on the floor.

It's noise was loud and harsh in their combined silence and it ripped a hole in England's mind. And they both knew what had happened. With that noise, that final clatter of chain against chain, America wasn't his any longer.

He was free.

But it was only America that felt something different as he ran out of the office. Only when he burst into the world, finding all of the world looking at him, watching him, looking for something to call him on.

He had one his independence, yes, but he was tainted by the other county. England would always be the person who raised him, comforted him in his time of need, but he would not stand to be put over the other's knees.

After all he was America.

And America was a HERO.

And HEROes are FREE.

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To all who made it to the end, forgive me for the crappiness of the ending. This story really was the devil, and I know it's not my normal writing quality, so I ask for forgiveness and for those that didn't get to the end, you'll never see this note but I'm super sorry.


End file.
